


Before Noon

by ironmansassistant



Series: Supernatural One-Shots [8]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-25
Updated: 2016-05-25
Packaged: 2018-06-10 17:46:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6966976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ironmansassistant/pseuds/ironmansassistant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Imagine making Sam and Dean chocolate chip pancakes at the bunker.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Before Noon

You were blasting your music as loud as you could, knowing that Sam was already up and running around somewhere outside and Dean’s room was too far away to really hear anything. Normally you didn’t like playing your music so loud, knowing that anything could sneak up on you, but today you threw caution to the wind. You’d been living in the bunker for a few weeks now and you had to admit it had begun to feel like home with the Winchester brothers. You knew you barely knew them, but the amount of trust you had in them made you feel as if you’d known them for years.  
Which was why you got up early after Sam had left and decided it was time to earn your keep. While you weren’t the greatest chef, it was hard to screw up pancakes. You started to sing under your breath to the song and sway your body to the beat, waiting for the sizzling pancakes to finish. When the four on the pan were the perfect golden-brown you flipped them onto a plate and poured on four more. Quickly reaching your hand out you expected to meet with the bowl of chocolate-chips you had on the counter but instead came into contact with warm fingers. You leapt backwards and tried to spin around, slamming your spatula onto whoever stood there.  
“Ah, damn Y/N!” Dean shouted. He steadied you with a hand on your waist as you tried to back away from him, stopping you from moving into the stove. With his other hand he popped a few candies into his mouth. “It’s just chocolate.”  
“Those are for the pancakes,” you shouted over the music. You swatted him on the chest with the spatula and laughed, turning your music off. Dean moved towards the coffee maker, wiping at the small spot of batter on his forehead, his rob swinging at his knees.  
“What are you doing up so early?” Dean asked. He poured coffee into his cup, voice still gruff from sleep.  
“Could ask you the same thing,” you replied, turning back to the stove. You threw in a handful of candies and quickly flipped the pancakes over, noting the edges were a little too dark. Without turning back to him you added, “I just wanted to make you and Sam breakfast for once. Usually I get up too late and you guys have eaten or are already gone.”  
“Well if you got up before noon,” Dean suggested with a chuckle. He came back to you after taking a drink of coffee, reaching for the chocolate again. You smacked him with your hand, this time.  
“Stop that,” you said. “Sam should be back soon and I want all the pancakes to have chocolate in them.”  
“You know Sam’s a health nut, right?”  
“Which is why I’m hiding the chocolate in the pancakes,” you counted. Dean smiled. You smiled back. “It’s like giving a pill to a dog. You gotta hide it in some cheese.”  
At that Dean barked out a laugh. He raised his cup to you as you slapped four more pancakes onto the nearby plate. You passed it to him just as you heard footsteps down the hall. Soon Sam turned the corner into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. He held his hand out in a silent question as to what was going on before downing half the bottle.  
“I made pancakes,” you announced, as if it wasn’t obvious.  
“Great,” Sam said. “I’m starving.”  
“Take a seat.” You pointed the spatula to the table and picked up the plates. You brought them to Sam and Dean as they each fell into their chairs. The table was already set with butter, syrup and assorted fruits. Setting the plates in front of them you announced, “Eat!”  
Dean took a gulp of coffee before picking up his fork and knife. Just as Sam began to grab some fruit you grabbed yourself a plate and turned to the stove, realizing you were out of batter. You whirled. “Wait!”  
A forkful of chocolatey, syrupy goodness was already crammed into Dean’s mouth, his eyes wide as he faced you. Through a full mouth he asked, “What? What’d you do?”  
“I’m out of batter,” you told them. Shuffling your feet you took your usual seat next to Sam and stabbed your fork into his top pancake.  
“Hey!” he said. You reached over him and tried to stab into what was left of Dean’s top pancake but he cut off with his knife.  
“Come on,” you prodded. “I made them, I deserve some.”  
“Shoulda thought ahead,” Dean said, shoving another large cut into his mouth.  
“Here,” Sam said, giving you another one of his.   
“Thank you Sam.” You nodded your appreciation at him.  
As Sam started to eat he said, “You know if you keep doing this we could start running together.”  
You looked to Dean and there was a small pause before you each burst out laughing. Sam pursed his lips. “Or not.”


End file.
